The Number 14

I don't want to be a meanie, but The Number 14 is about as sturdy as the flimsy backdrop of its set (a cross-sectioned, old-school public bus). I'm the wrong audience (it's aimed at children), but I found only a few exceptional bits, like when the bus is used as a jungle gym by a rather flexible "grandmother" who is being whipped around by a high-speed bus (what's the lesson we're teaching kids?), or when two strangers hold glossy headshots to cover their faces while using flip-book pictures to act out a sweet little romance. The rest of the show is all over the place, making exaggerated light of slow, elderly people; awkward and frantic adults; and hyperactive youngsters. There's little thought of an overall statement or overarching idea: thugs are prone to dance while spraying graffiti, one actor suddenly breaks into a rap, the cast into a fragmented version of "Don't Worry, Be Happy." The mask-work is creative, and I wouldn't mind the stereotypes if they tied together. The climax, which recycles all the characters from the previous vignettes in one sweeping series of on-and-off exits is a good example of direction, but it's not enough. I left the theater still waiting for something else to happen.

Also blogged by: [Patrick]

Picasso at the Lapin Agile

I had a bit of an icebox moment with the T. Schreiber Studio production of Picasso at the Lapin Agile. At the theater, I wasn't really laughing, and I found the pacing to be a little lethargic (which was odd since the actors seemed totally sober). But walking home, I found myself chuckling more and more over the animosity between Picasso and Einstein, and I was in especial appreciation of Cat Parker's brilliant direction: she punctuated every pun and superbly set up every joke. (Steve Martin's script is smart, but not always smooth on the page, or the stage.) So not every actor took their cue on time, and some of the jokes seemed more executed than flawlessly executed, but some of those at-the-time one-liners have grown on me (like Sagot's remark about art dealers being notorious for their sense of humor, or Freddy's test of Einstein's mathematical skill), and I have to say I rather enjoyed myself.

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Also blogged by: [Patrick] and [David]

Picasso At The Lapin Agile

T Schreiber Studio

**

Comedians who find new and innovative ways to be funny are my favorite people in the world. And so, obviously, Steve Martin ("It's these cans! HE HATES THESE CANS!") is one of my heroes. In his play, Picasso At Lapin Agile, you can single out his absurd, slightly self-deprecating, brilliant fool's voice at every turn. Unfortunately I could not hear it in this constrained, polite TS Studio production as it feels like it's been directed and acted as though it were a drama. They all seemed to be completely unaware of Martin's style of comedy as his hysterically stupid zingers wandered by without even inducing a chuckle. Only Michael Black (pictured. in the hat) who bounds into this play like a lovable jerk, truly GOT the joke and had the audience in stitches whenever he was onstage.

Also blogged by [Aaron] and [Patrick]

Matthew Passion

*
Chernuchin Theatre

When the playwright himself stands before the audience just prior to the start of the show and delivers a homily which concludes with "The theme of this play is...." and then proceeds to tell you the theme, you should be afraid. This actually happened. Did he not trust us to get it? Or did he not trust his own production's ability to deliver his message? I find it difficult to pan this musical because it's filled with nothing but naive good intentions but attempting to compare the crucifixion of (a buff, chest-waxed) Jesus to the murder of Matthew Sheperd I feel is baffling, misguided, and offensive to Christianity (and I'm not even a religious person) and the memory of Sheperd.

Also blogged by [Patrick]

Suburban Peepshow

Over-the-top satire such as Suburban Peepshow is more about form than substance, so it's okay to have cross-dressing ninjas and it's fine that the actors break character to complain to the playwright about their "part" in the script. On the whole, the show is lively underground theater, and the only real issue with James Comtois's play is that it doesn't go even further in breaking down both the traditional family and the theater's common depiction of them. The jiggling dance of "Chubby Guy" (Comtois himself) really is the image that sticks with us the most, and the banal observations ("You know what was a good movie? Major League. Yeah. That was a good movie.") make for all-too-familiar small talk. Brilliant? No. Entertaining? Yes.

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Matthew Passion

photo: David Morgan

Nothing can grow in bad soil, and the idea of linking Christ's suffering on the cross to Matthew Shepard's death at the hands of gaybashers is about as fertile as cement. The play's brand of offensiveness is not the rock-your-world and challenge-your-beliefs kind, it's of the gleefully naive variety. There's an almost grade school level of innocent badness here, as we watch a completely oblivious Jesus visiting a gay bar, or as we see Matthew Shepard's two gaybashers dance a homoerotic dream ballet in their underwear around his dying body. The playwright (who also wrote the songs - yes, this is a musical) seems to be writing with commendable spirituality-affirming, gay-validating good intentions, but the road to hell, as they say...

Also blogged by: [David]